This article is part of Atriumโs Winter 2022 issue. To view the print edition online, visit our Issuuย here.
Gentle waves beckon Jacksonville Beach visitors into the water. The serenity is inviting. The ocean is nurturing. But salt can sting. Even peaceful seas can become perilous.ย
Eyes glued to the blue, the lifeguards of the Jacksonville Beach Ocean Rescue Division know the volatility of the deep. They survey the sands and constantly communicate, ready to dive into harmโs way at a momentโs notice. They are determined to stay ahead of danger. The sun shines, the seagulls soar, the surf stills, but the oceanโs temper festers below the surface.
The lifeguards remain wary. Watching. Waiting.
Standing since 1948, the Jacksonville Beach lifeguard tower is a landmark of the area.Schultz starts the day with an unusual ritual: a pre-beach ice bath. He likes to cool off before going to work, he says.Orion Feagin sits in the empty lifeguard chairs and checks his phone before his shift.The sand-ready golf carts sit idle before the day picks up.Captain Rob Emahiser has a serious demeanor. His first priority, after all, is to prevent tragedy.Will Ashcroft watches over the entire beach at his post on top of the station.The inside of the station garage is covered head to toe in equipment. Emahiser and Jacob Cantos check the medical equipment.Emahiser educates two beachgoers on the dangers of swimming around the legs of the pier.Enborg surveys the shore. Heโll remain alert throughout his shift, trained to spring into action at a momentโs notice.
Emahiser urges the guards to be proactive, not reactive. He drives up and down the coast to check on his guards and the people at the beach.Beachgoers relax by the water under the careful oversight of the lifeguards.Enborg, a guard on lookout, preps his stand at the start of his shift. The flagโs color warns of hazardous waters.Brandon Martin, Cantos, Hattingh, Ashcroft, and Feagin (from left to right) work in the garage overlooking the sea.